The shadow of souls
by He-of-the-geeks
Summary: After the battle of Feinster, Eragon knows the final hours are dying. He sets out to strengthen himself, to discover the last egg and it's rider, and to do what must be done to stop Galbatorix. Eragon will discover his fate as the end draws near.
1. Prologue

**As stated in my profile, this fic is in honor of my best friend, Gabe Rook, A.K.A shadowbard (RIP). It is the conclusion of the inheritance series…And more or less an adaption of Gabe's original story. So…here goes.**

Eragon sat half awake, half asleep in the saddle, as Saphira glided slowly in the sky above Feinster, which was now a mass of shattered buildings feeding pillars of black smoke.. He rubbed a wound on his shoulder, where the cut had been surrounded by bruise, making it itch and twinge awfully when the cut had turn to scab. He had a dozen other injuries just like it, and had not bothered to heal them, as exhausted as he was from the previous day's battle. Even worse than those were the injuries of the mind-after the savage mental assault from his and Arya's bout with the shade, his head throbbed feircely.

And still he could not stop thinking! _It's too much too quickly…_ Eragon thought. _Barely a week ago I was fulfilling the first half of Solembum's advice by forging Brisingr, and discovering Brom was my father._ He smiled slightly at this last thought; the revelation still filled him with pride. _And now Oromis and Glaedr are dead, and I am truly the last of the free riders…how will this end?_

Noticing his turmoil, Saphira turned her head slightly and said, _Do not torture yourself, little one. What will be will be. Galbatorix will never win. _

_How can you be so sure?_ He responded. _We have achieved and grown much…but Galbatorix has had over a century to build his power. If he could be defeated by two years of knowledge, two years of work, he would be long dead…In the end, it all boils down to a matter of power…and the undeniable fact that he has more than us…_

_Perhaps._ Saphira said. _But we bear with us the will of the riders. We bear Glaedr's heart of hearts. We bear the strength of Brom, Oromis, Arya, Nasuada, Orik, Roran, and others whose names we do not even know. It is our fate, our wyrd, to prevail. And so we shall._

Strengthened by Saphira's words, Eragon banished his greiving thoughts. _You are right. We cannot fail, for there is too much at stake. We carry a will within us that Galbatorix cannot know; We fight with all of Alagaesia on our shoulders, while he fights to keep it at his feet. We have the lives of all who we hold dear to fight for, and we cannot fail them._ _That is why we cannot- will not lose. We will endure no matter what challenge faces us. _

Saphira blinked, and said, _And we have each other._

Eragon grinned, filled with hope for the end that was approaching. _Aye. That we do._

Arya sat on the wall of Feinster, the first rest she had since the Varden's victory. But while her body lay still, her mind did not. _How is it we are still alive?_ She suddnly wondered, filled with grim and morbid thoughts. _We have fought well, and come so far…can it truly be that it is all only because Galbatorix does not see fit to leave his black keep? _

_And…why? Is he simply uninterested, or is he planning something? But what could he be plotting when he could destroy us all in an instant with his own power?_ She sighed, rubbing her eyes with the base of her hand. _With the strength of the Eldunari, is he truly waiting, or is he merely lazy?_

Frustrated by her thoughts, which forced her to face the fact that all the Varden's struggles could be for nothing. That everyone, Nasuada, Islanzadi, Saphira, Eragon… they could all die by a madman's whim.

Looking up towards the purple, smoke stained sky, she looked to where Saphira drifted with slow wing beats, and at her rider, the boy-_man_ she corrected herself, knowing that he deserved to be called so after all he had done and and all he was. She looked at the speck that was Eragon. One man, who was so important to the Varden and so many others, including herself. One man, whose struggles shaped the fate of Alagaesia, and had endured against so much…the thought that he and all he fought for could be gone in an instant sickened her.

Arya sighed, holding her head in her hands._ Whatever Galbatorix is planning, whatever happens…the true question, and the only one that matters is…will he be ready?_

**This is a short one, but it is the prologue, so yeah….Anyway, reviews are always welcome for all my stories. (Even if they're negative…I just like to know people are reading.) So review if you liked it, review if you didn't…**

**Anyway, one thing I feel I should say is that little wanderings of the mind that often get ignored sometimes have significance…I guess that's a little obvious for this chap...**

**Anyway, hope you liked it, and I look forward to bringing out more chapters soon!**

**Alex**


	2. Departure and Death

**Hi, everybody! By which I mean the ten or so I believe read based on my hits rating. Anyway, I just wanted to give a shout out to coolkitty154 and rih ROFLchen. Its really awesome to have two people add you to their favorites so early in, especially when one of my stories is about …bah! Anyway, here's chapter two. Enjoy!!!**

_Chapter two: Departure and Death_

Eragon had learned something new over the days since the Varden had departed from Feinster. An army on the march was a formidable thing. The camp was both silent and deafening. Everywhere were makeshift and temporary forges, armories, barracks, and kitchens. A myriad of tasks were being carried out at any time, making life a series of one job after another.

And yet there was always the knowledge that they were marching towards battle. That fact hung over everyone's heads like a black omen, breeding fear and anxiety. Many wondered the same thing. It was whether they would die, and the thoughts that accompanied that, whether willed or no: would a friend die in my stead? Will I cause the death of someone I care for? And then there were worse thoughts, the kind that crept into your head simply because you knew it was an evil thought: would I be glad to see a friend die if only it meant that I should live?

Eragon knew these thoughts haunted every man who prepared himself for battle. He could see it in their eyes, from the way they looked towards their fellows, and then looked away, ashamed. Eragon also knew that he could shift the balance, and that his actions could save hundreds of men…just as easily as they could damn even more.

"You seem especially grim today, shadeslayer." He was startled out of his thoughts by a cheery call, and turned around to see Angela, with Solembum at her feet. "These are grim times." He responded.

"That they are. But honestly, you look like a dwarf that sat the wrong way on a spike." Eragon could not help but be amused by the eccentric herbalist. "Is there any purpose in asking why a dwarf would sit on a spike at all? Or for that matter, if there is a right way to sit on a spike?"

The herbalist shrugged. "No purpose on less you ask the dwarf in question. I'm sure he had something in mind to be doing something as stupid as sitting on a narrow pointy object, though I couldn't say what. Odds are he-or she for that matter-was drunk."

Unable to help himself, Eragon laughed, glad for something to distract himself from the march towards battle. Angela continued. "So as I was saying, it's best not to dwell on all of our impending dooms. If Galbatorix kills you, you'll die regardless. Might as well smile and wonder if you really can survive for a few moments after you've been decapitated!" She said this all cheerily and very matter-of-factly, as if telling a child something simple.

Eragon sighed. "Thank you for the encouragement." Angela favored him with one of her roguish winks. "You're welcome to it! When gallows humor is the only humor available, it's all the more important to laugh!" They walked together for a while, Angela chattering about a number of odd things, Eragon grateful for the distraction from the Varden's low morale.

Eragon suddenly recalled something he had heard in Ellesmera. "Angela, were you ever in Ellesmera?" Her reply was without hesitation. "Certainly. Elves are very interesting creatures…but a bit to tight knit. Still, if Arya were a representation of her race, they'd likely be a good deal worse in that sense. Of course, you would hardly complain to a forest full of our fair elven friend, would you?" This last part was practically saturated with the herbalist's implications, much to Eragon's embarrassment.

Suddenly, Saphira, who was flying back from hunting, interjected. _To the contrary. He'd likely be terrified out of his wits of shaming himself while saying hello to a passerby!_ Eragon groaned, wile Angela laughed heartily. "Anyway." The rider said a bit forcefully, trying to change the subject. "I ask because my master said he had met you. Did you know an elf named Oromis?"

Angela nodded. "Of course! Who of importance did not?" Eragon stared at her, amused. "Only the leaders of every nation outside of the elves." Angela nodded rapidly. "Well of course they are important in their own small ways, but I mean the people that truly matter, like me, or Solembum, or that donkey." She said the last item on the list as she pointed away, towards a donkey tethered to a wooden pole.

"Why the donkey?" Eragon asked. "Well, he has one blue hoof that is hard to notice, and his right foreleg is longer than the others." "You're not suggesting that that donkey knew Oromis?" Eragon asked, having passed the point of serious conversation.

Nodding seriously, she said, "He may. Donkeys are smarter than you think. Anyway, why do you ask?" Eragon looked down. "I was just thinking of him after he died, and he mentioned you, though said you went by a different name, and that it was a long time ago." "Oh." Angela said, staying silent. Eragon was about to pursue the matter, but decided against it, reasoning that she would tell him nothing.

They talked for a while longer, walking through the camp. They were interrupted by Saphira landing in front of them. _Little one, Nasuada wants you. _He nodded.

_Did she tell you?_

_No, Arya did._

Eragon nodded again, and turned to Angela. "I have to go, Nasuada is looking for me." The herbalist nodded, smiling. "Than by all means, go. Best not keep your lady waiting. We'll talk another time, shadeslayer."

He nodded, and dashed over to where Saphira sat waiting. He quickly climbed up onto her back, clasping one of the spikes protruding from her spine. She leapt into the sky, her wings pounding the air.

As they flew, Eragon looked down on the camp, where the Varden had stopped to rest. There were tents pitched here and there, and Eragon noticed Roran's and Angela's. For the most part though, individual soldiers had been too exhausted both from the march and the recent battle to do more than find a soft patch of dirt and lay out their bedrolls, usually covered with nothing more than a cloak and sticks.

He spotted Nasuada's pavilion, positioned in the center of the camp. It was ringed with guards, and was positioned near three barracks, and others were not far away, as in truth the barracks were little more than large tents. Eragon suspected that more guards were posted within her pavilion.

They landed to cries of "Hail, shadeslyer!" Eragon leapt off of Saphira's back, and the guards, including both men and Urgals, parted to allow him entry.

Inside the tent, Nasuada sat at a table which had maps spread over it. An additional eight guards stood within the pavilion, along with Arya, and Blӧdgharm. Nasuada looked up as he entered. "Ah. Eragon."

"Saphira said you needed me." Eragon said. "And so I do." Said Nasuada, standing. "We have little time, so I will be succinct. You and Saphira, even with the aid of Blӧdgharm, are not strong enough to fight Galbatorix."

Eragon sighed and nodded. "I know." Nasuada softened her tone. "It is through no fault of your own, Eragon. And at the very least, we now know why." _Yes, but that makes it no easier._ Commented Saphira as she snaked her head in through the tent.

"Not necessarily. We now know his weakness. We now know what we must do to stop him." Eragon nodded, seeing the truth in her words. Arya spoke. "Have you been able to speak with Glaedr?" "No. I've tried every night…but he hasn't answered. I haven't been able to reach him at all."

Arya nodded, having expected as much. "Eragon, I did not ask you here merely to discuss what hope we have and what hope we do not. I have orders for you." Eragon nodded. "What do you need me to do?"

Nasuada hesitated before speaking. "I need you to leave the Varden." Eragon gaped. "Wha-leave!" "Yes." Nasuada said. "I can't! If I leave, so many more will die at Belatona and Dras-Leona! But I can help turn the balance! I can save hundreds of lives if you stay.

"Yes." Nasuada said. "All this is true. And it is with the hardest of hearts that I must send you away. But no matter how many men you save, it will all be for naught if we march on Urû-baen and you cannot defeat Galbatorix."

Eragon saw the truth in her words. "You're right. Should I not at least stay until we arrive at Belatona?" Nasuada shook her head. "No. You need to be gone as quickly as possible. Today, in fact." "Why so soon? And for that matter, why would leaving help me become stronger?"

"It may and it may not." Nasuada replied. "But I intend for you to take advantage of Galbatorix's weakness. You must move quickly. You must find a way to stop him from using the power of the eldunari. "

"How? There's no way I can do that alone." Eragon protested. "You won't be entirely alone." Nasuada said. "Arya has agreed to help you." Eragon looked towards her, and she nodded. "As for how…all I can say is that you must." Eragon nodded, knowing that there was nothing more she could tell him.

"Eragon." Nasuada said softly. She walked up to him, placing her hand gently on his arm "I know it is not fair or me to ask this of you. But I must, and you must succeed. Do everything that you can in order to make sure you find a way to stop him." He nodded. "I will." He turned his head towards Saphira, who had remained silent. "What do you think?"

_We must succeed. _She said simply, as if it were so easy. _Eventually Glaedr may be able to aid us…but until then, we must simply find a way to do what is necessary._

_Aye…_ he replied. "Blödhgarm…you will stay and help the Varden?" The fur coated elf nodded. "Yes. It is obvious that I would be of no use to you in the manner you are to travel…and an additional twelve elves would hardly fit on dragonback. We will stay here, and do what we can to ensure victory at the battles ahead."

The young rider nodded, satisfied. "Then there is little to keep me here. I should leave immediately." Nasuada nodded. "That would be best."

_I'll pack quickly._ Eragon said to Saphira. _Take Arya and wait. I'll be with you in a few minutes. _

_Very well, little one._ She responded. Then, to Arya, _Arya. Eragon will be ready soon. Come._ The Elf nodded.

Eragon bowed to Nasuada. "I will not fail you, my liege." Nasuada sighed, and for a moment the immense strain showed on her face. "I pray that is true." Was her only response.

With that, he and Arya left the pavilion. Saphira led Arya to the outskirts of camp. Eragon ran to his tent. He rushed so that no one could interrupt him. The sooner he left, the better.

He entered his tent, and started, reaching for where Brisingr hung at his belt. There was someone in his tent! Then he froze, relieved. "Roran." He said, greeting his cousin. Roran smiled. "I haven't seen you since Feinster. I wanted to talk." Eragon smiled. "Yes." He sat down next to Roran.

"Unfortunately, I don't have much time." Roran frowned. "Why not?" Eragon sighed. "I'm leaving." Roran's eyes widened. "Leaving? But…What do you mean."

Eragon stood. He grabbed his pack, filling it with it with items lying around the tent: a whetstone, his armor, consisting of a chainmail hauberk, a shield, two mailed gauntlets, a padded leather coif, a chainmail coif, and a steel half helm. He also took two flasks-one of strawberry mead, and one of Faelnirv. He took a sip from the first flask, passing it to Roran.

"Nasuada's given me orders to leave the Varden." Roran was shocked. "Leave the varden… that doesn't make any sense!" Eragon passed him the flask of mead. "I'll explain." He said sitting.

"While I was in Ellesmera, before Feinster, I learned something. A dragon has…well, you would call it a second soul. They call it their 'heart of hearts', but its true name is eldunari."

"They can release the eldunari from their body. It serves almost as a container for their soul after they die. Their consciousness and power becomes sealed within it." Eragon reached down for a cloth sack in a wooden chest by his bedroll. "This is the eldunari of my master…"

He let the golden orange orb fall from the sack, landing in his palm. "Glaedr." Roran stared, amazed. "Is…Glaedr…alive in that stone?" Eragon nodded. "Can you speak with him?" Roran asked.

"Normally I would, but after losing his rider, Oromis…He hasn't spoken a word."

Roran nodded. "What does this have to do with why you have to leave the Varden?" "Because." Ergon said "They are the root of Galbatorix's power." Roran understood suddenly. "That's why you're leaving. To find them, and stop him."

"Exactly." Eragon said. "Even if we take Belatona and Dras-leona without losing a single man, it will mean nothing if I cannot defeat Galbatorix. There's another thing-the last dragon's egg." "You hope to find it." Roran said. "Yes."

"Eragon…" Roran said in amazement. "How are you going to do all this?" Eragon sighed. In the minutes since Nasuada had informed him of his task, he had asked himself that same question many times.

"I don't know." He said honestly. "But I have to. I have no idea where to look for the eldunari _or _the egg. But I'll have to try and find something. In truth…I thought I would start at Helgrind, or Gil'ead. Somewhere where the empire used to be strong. I might find some clues as to where I should start looking."

Roran nodded. "That makes sense." He paused, as if struggling with what he was about to say. "I want to come with you!" "No." Eragon said firmly without any hesitation. "Why!? I can help you! You'll need help!" "No. You can't leave the Varden. They'll need your help. Think of Katrina!" That stopped Roran.

"She's pregnant. You can't just leave her." Eragon said in a softer tone. "Don't worry about me. No one will no that I've even left the Varden. Besides, I'll be with Arya." "Arya?" "Yes. She's coming to help. I'll be fine. Don't worry." Roran sighed. "Fine. You're right of course. Be careful."

They clasped each others hands. "Goodbye, Roran. We'll see each other again soon. Look after your wife!"

Eragon left the tent, breaking into a run towards the outskirts of the camp. His pack, laden as it was with his armor, pounded against his shoulder.

He reached where Saphira waited with Arya. Arya leaned against Saphira's flank, wrapping a strip of cloth around her wrist. She looked up when Eragon approached. "Are you ready, Eragon?" He nodded, and she stood, shouldering her own pack.

They both climbed into the broad, rigid saddle. Eragon sat in front, and he and Arya both tied their legs into the saddle. Eragon made sure that Glaedr's eldunari was secured tightly to the saddle, before saying _alright_ to Saphira.

She unfurled her wings. The air thudded as she flapped, lifting them into the air. She turned, and they flew out to the east.

_______________________________________________________________________

Sparks flew as steel met steel. The two combatants leapt apart. The first, a girl with long black hair, who looked to be seventeen, raised her curved blade defensively. She pressed the sack she held close to her chest. Sweat rolled down her face, and she had already accumulated a number of savage wounds, earned from fighting with a single hand.

Her opponent, an elf with long silver hair, looked around at his nine companions. Their bodies lay in one massive pool of blood, which seeped into the sand. The elf cursed himself for he and his companion's arrogance. They had left the main host, coming southeast out of Du Weldenvarden, to scout ahead. They had thought that ten elves would find no dangers in the empty expanses of the Hadarac. They had been wrong.

He spat blood from his mouth. "Witch…" He snarled angered by the deaths of his friends. She had struck from the shadows, a blast of wind sending sand shredding at them like a thousand blades. Three of his friends had died immediately. Two more had been cut down before they could defend themselves, and the next four had been slain by various means. Now only he, Idran, lived.

"WITCH!" He roared, enraged, as tears and blood poured down his face. Her face was pale, and he was surprised to see silent tears streaming from her eyes as well. "I'm so sorry." "SILENCE!" he roared. "No…" she whispered, but he did not hear her.

Idran raced at her. His sword was ready, held for a thrust. In a motion that was terrifyingly fast, she leapt into the sky. Her hand shot out, and she cried "_Jierda!" _The ground around Idran exploded, sending sand tearing around him. His skin was lacerated, dying the sand red.

She flew down towards him. Idran was unable to move fast enough, and watched helplessly as her blade came down, cutting from his shoulder to his groin, cutting through bone and muscle like butter. His body fell apart into two halves, and blood poured everywhere.

She fell to her knees, sobbing. The voice whispered, _Foolish little girl. Weak. You are weak and stupid, to weep for these pathetic creatures who do not deserve to live in this world._

"SHUT UP!" She screamed, clawing at her face in an attempt to pull the whispers from her mind. _Do not struggle, daughter…my pathetic, stupid daughter. You say it is evil, that you do it only because my mind and spirits corrupt you…because I am inside of you…_

"Please…" She said weeping pitifully. _But the truth is you enjoy it. You thirst for the blood that I spill with your hand._

_You think I have broken you? That somehow I have made you do this? Nay. You love to kill…You love when I fill you, when I take your body…When It is no longer your body. The feeling of flesh and bone yielding before cold steel…it fills you with the ecstacy that is murder._

"NO!" She screamed, her throat burning from the pain of her shout.

The voice cackled maliciously. _Do not lie, Kaarst…You have such beautiful power and bloodlust. Together we will slay the filth of this world…Those that lack power, and those that do not deserve it._

The voice seeped into her limbs, once again claiming her body. Her arms lifted the sack she held, and pulled it away. The dark emerald egg, as perfect as marble, flecked with veins of white, shone under the full, desert moon. _With this we will destroy all. Even if it will not hatch, In time it will be ours…and our power will be great enough to conquer all of this pitiful world!_

**Hey! Sorry if it was a bit crappy, but I was watching Shaun of the dead and putting together a slapstick naruto slideshow, so I was slightly distracted… Anyway, the chapter ended with the last egg, and an O.C of mine named Kaarst, who originated from the character Kyari in my friends fic. If any of you don't know why this originates from my friends fic, it explains it at the end of my profile. Anyway, that voice in her head will be explained and actually become a main antagonist later in the story. Anyway, hope you liked it, don't blame you if you didn't, and I'll see you next time!**


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